Search For The Allspark
by HardyGal
Summary: Post-Predacons Rising AU. Optimus Prime prepares to go on a long quest to search for the Allspark. With a small crew consisting of Prowl, Red Alert, Wheeljack, Arcee, Smokescreen and Soundwave, Optimus begins his quest.
1. Chapter 1

**Opening speech thing, as written by Smokescreen:** _Space, the final frontier. (Actually, it isn't, but just go with it). These are the voyages of the starship (or just ship) Bumblebee. Its continuing mission, to find the Allspark. Do some exploring on the way. And maybe find a few Autobots. To boldly go where no mech (Cybertronian) has gone before! Except those guys we might encounter on the way._

A blue and yellow Lotus Exige went speeding down the relatively repaired road. With no one else on said road, he wasn't holding back anything. With the cold air hitting his vents, he felt a little breathless (so to speak) with excitement. But it wasn't just the speed that was making his spark flutter excitedly, it was where he was speeding to.

Young Elite Guard Smokescreen was one of seven Cybertronians set to launch on a voyage to find the Allspark, an ancient, and powerful relic, which had been launched off Cybertron during the later days of the war.

A lot had happened during the past few months. More and more Autobots were coming back to Cybertron, after the whole incident with Megatron being possessed by Unicron. The Lord of Chaos was now trapped in a relic container, and Megatron was… somewhere. Optimus Prime had picked up the relic container on a much shorter voyage for the Allspark, thinking that the container had contained the relic. That container, however, had been a decoy, just in case the Decepticons went looking. (At least it assisted in the defeat of Unicron).

Now, Optimus Prime was again going to search the much farther reaches of space for the source of all Cybertronian life, this time with five more bots, not just Wheeljack. Smokescreen was one of those five bots.

And there was no way he was going to miss this. Forcing his speed dial higher, and pressing down as far as possible on the gas pedal, Smokescreen accelerated. However, a black and yellow Urbana 500 came zooming fast around the corner, and Smokescreen shouted in alarm, hitting the brake. The Urbana also skidded, his tires sending up smoke. Realizing that he would crash before he stopped, Smokescreen transformed, stumbling forward. The Urbana apparently also decided to transform, and both mechs bumped into each other, falling backwards.

"Woah, take it easy, Smokey!" Bumblebee exclaimed, quickly getting to his pedes, and helping his comrade to his own. "We almost totaled each other there."

"Yeah, sorry," Smokescreen apologized. "I'm just afraid of missing the launch. This is gonna be the biggest thing that's ever happened to me! Except the time I first joined the team," he added after a moment.

"Well, the launch isn't set to go for a few groons," Bumblebee pointed out. "You've got plenty of time."

"So you've got plenty of time to change your mind. Are you sure you don't want to go?" Smokescreen asked. "The ship _is_ named after you."

Bumblebee raised an eye ridge with a skeptical smirk. "Since when was the _Argo_ named after me?"

Smokescreen waved that away. "Other bots might call it the _Argo_, but that's too much like the _Ark_. No, I say we call it the _Bumblebee_. After all, it's because of you the Allspark needs to be found in the first place, what with you stalling Megatron and all."

The young scout rubbed the back of his helm. "Yeah, sure. But I already played my part, Smokescreen. Besides, Ultra Magnus needs all the help he can get with Starscream and Shockwave still missing, more bots coming in. Oh, and Knock Out."

Both young mechs laughed. The red medic had been complaining about the state of his medical bay constantly, and it seemed all Ultra Magnus could do to not throw him out the window.

"But seriously," Smokescreen said, his laughter petering down. "You sure you don't wanna come?"

"I'm sure," Bumblebee said firmly. "Besides, they already have you to deal with." His optics glinted mischievously.

"Right. Hey, what do you mean 'deal with'?" Smokescreen demanded indignantly.

Bumblebee laughed, punching the Elite Guard lightly on the shoulder. "It's fine, Smokey. I had my share of learning from Optimus and the crew, now you've got a chance to learn something other than what your 'boot camp' taught you."

There was a loud rev, and Smokescreen turned. A silver and red Cybertronian muscle car was cutting through the road at top speed, heading straight for Smokescreen and Bumblebee. Before Smokescreen could shout a protest, the car transformed, and the mech tackled him.

"You let your guard down, little brother!" the mech shouted playfully, the two of them now wrestling in the middle of the road.

"Not fair!" Smokescreen protested, struggling to get out from under his surrogate brother. "That was a sneak attack!"

"Duh, yeah, it wasn't fair!" Bluestreak retorted. "That's why it's called 'sneak', genius!"

Bumblebee was laughing at the two young mechs, before deciding that he should probably play the responsible one. "Ok, guys," he said, putting a servo on Bluestreak's shoulder and pulling him off Smokescreen. "No fighting in the middle of-"

Bluestreak responded by seizing the smaller Autobot by the servo, and kicking his pedes out from under him. "Hey!" Bumblebee sat up sharply. "Fine, then…!" He tackled the sniper.

Smokescreen tried to pull the silver and red mech off Bumblebee, but ended up getting pulled into the fight. There was a small tussle between the three young Autobots, before they finally settled down. Bluestreak laughed brushing the dust off his helm.

"Well, I found you Smokes," he said, looking at Smokescreen. "Today's a big day, huh? I bet you can't wait to get to the launch. I was actually surprised to see you just standing in the road, I was expecting to see you already standing inside the ship, groons before the actual launch. Are you going there now? Well, not exactly right now of course, but were you on your way?" He said all this in quick succession, typical to his personality.

"Yeah, I was on my way," Smokescreen said with a grin, dusting off his chassis. "Just got held up. 'Bee and I almost caused a road accident."

"You _do_ realize that you're not gonna be able to drive at that speed anymore as more and more Cybertronians come back home," Bumblebee pointed out, his doorwings fluttering slightly as they removed the dust. Doorwings were very rare outside of a Praxian, and Bumblebee's were neither as large nor as sensitive as either Smokescreen or Bluestreak's.

"Well, yeah," Smokescreen said, a very 'well, duh' tone to his vocals. "That's why I'm making the most of what little time I have left to cut loose."

"Better hope there are vehicle friendly terrains where you're going," Bluestreak said, pushing his brother on the shoulder. "And no speed limits."

"Oh, I hope." Smokescreen jumped to his pedes enthusiastically. "I also hope that I'm about to be launching on the biggest adventure since Unicron! Deep space, guys, and I'll be exploring it! With Optimus no less!"

"And Prowl," Bumblebee pointed out wryly, standing up.

"Yeah, you better also hope Prowler doesn't put a leash on that explorer part of you," said Bluestreak. "On the bright side, maybe you guys can bond! You haven't seen him in forever, you know. Well, you haven't seen me in forever either, but that's besides the point. _We've_ already re-bonded after all these years! But you and Prowler still seem to have a few barriers between you two. Yeah, he can be a tight-aft, but deep down I'm sure he wants to bond too… Right along with a still being a tight-aft of course."

Smokescreen laughed, but it sounded halfsparked. "Yeah, I'm sure he wants to bond. But Prowl isn't exactly the easily 'bonding' type, not even with either of us." He gestured between himself and Bluestreak. "Hey, Blue," he said suddenly. "I was just telling 'Bee that he could still come along on the quest. Are you sure you don't wanna come? On top of exploring, searching for the Allspark, me, you and Prowl could bond together!"

Bluestreak smirked. "Sounds beyond awesome, but I've missed Cybertron. We need at least a few well known Autobots staying back home to greet the come backers… The old comers…" He frowned for a moment, unhappy at not being able to find the right set of words. "Besides," he said finally, his grin back. "Me and Prowler have already bonded. Now is your chance to re-know him without me needing to force you guys to."

Smokescreen sighed, glancing at the ground. "At least Prowl sorta wanted to bond with you," he muttered, so Bluestreak and Bumblebee could hardly hear him. Then, he looked back up at his two peers. "It's too bad neither of you guys wanna come," he said. "It would be nice to not be the only 'kid' in the group."

"Well, you still _act_ like a kid," Bumblebee pointed out teasingly.

"Hey!" Smokescreen threw an indignant punch, which Bumblebee dodged.

"Ha! You just proved my point!"

"Wuh, oh!" Bluestreak exclaimed suddenly. "Sparklings! Sparklings! The launch is set to go in two groons!"

"Better get there then!" Smokescreen turned and transformed, leaving Blustreak and Bumblebee standing in his dust.

"How 'bout I race you!" Bluestreak also transformed, and went after his fellow Praxian.

Bumblebee waved the dust away from his faceplates. He thought about it for a moment, before running forward and transforming. "Wait for me!"

* * *

"Since when did the _Argo_ become the _Bumblebee_?" Arcee asked, walking over to Wheeljack, who was sitting on the launch pad, examining his katana.

"Why'd you ask?" Wheeljack said, without looking up.

"That's what everyone has been calling it," said Arcee. "Trailbreaker, Bulkhead, Chromia… I wasn't aware that we had changed the name."

"Why's it such a big deal to you?" asked Wheeljack. "Anyway, the Elite Guard kid decided to change the name. In honor of the former scout, or something."

Arcee smiled a little. "Well, I guess it's too late now. Where is Smokescreen anyway? I thought he would be here the day before the launch for all the excitement he was showing."

"Prob'ly hiding from Mr. Tight-Aft over there." Wheeljack pointed his katana at Prowl, who was standing on the pad a little ways away from them, poring over a data-pad. "Why does he even wanna come anyway?" the Wrecker muttered sullenly. "Yeesh, and I thought Shoulder Pads was bad, but at least he knows how to wreck. This guy…" He shook his helm.

"At least he's a loyal Autobot," said Arcee. "And when Optimus asked for bots to accompany him on the search, Prowl was one of the first to offer his help."

"Funny, I didn't peg him for the adventure type," said Wheeljack.

"Well, this quest isn't just about exploration and adventure," said Arcee. "It's also about restoring the Well, and letting new life begin here. It's about the future of Cybertron. Prowl… might be a bit more by-the-book, but he knows that his loyalties lie with Optimus and Cybertron."

"Yeah, just so long as he's not holding me back, I think we're gonna be best friends," Wheeljack said with a smirk.

Down on solid ground, where the few returned Autobots milled about, waiting for the big launch, there was a small argument.

"I do not see why I mustn't spend my time making the medical bay more presentable," Knock Out said with annoyance. "No one wants their limbs replaced in a dark and dull room."

"No one wants _anything_ replaced with _you_ in a room," a white and red femme replied cooly. "Be it dark and dull or not."

"And when did _you_ become head of the medical bay?" Knock Out said. "I have been here longer than you have."

"And guess who's been an Autobot longer," the femme retorted. She turned around, servos on her hips. "Plus I was trained by Ratchet."

"Yes, great CMO _Ratchet_," said Knock Out, his vocals dripping with sarcasm. "I don't know if you know this, but Ratchet isn't here anymore."

"No, he is acting as a liaison," the femme said. "I, however, am still here, and I say that until we have better resources and less long term patients with all these Cybertronians coming back home, we won't waste our time 'fashioning up' the med-bay."

"Yes, but you won't be here for long, won't you Red Alert?" Knock Out pointed out.

Red Alert waved an indifferent servo. "Fine then, do what you want while I'm gone. If any patients drastically deteriorate, don't call me with cries for help. I'll be too busy assisting in the search for the Allspark, as well as possibly dealing with my own patients."

"You think you're so _perfect_," the former Decepticon retorted, his vocals again dripping with sarcasm. "Agreeing to go search for the _Allspark_, and assisting in future of _Cybertron_. Meanwhile, I'll be here, slaving away in an unfit working environment."

"I feel sorry for you, Knock Out," Red Alert said blandly. "I hope nothing drastic happens, such as a chipped paint-job."

Meanwhile, all of the bots surrounding the launch pad were giving a certain mech a wide berth. Soundwave just stared straight ahead, paying no mind to the low murmurs of the surrounding Autobots. Lord Megatron had quit his almost lifelong position as warlord, and the Decepticons were, officially, no more. That didn't mean that Soundwave was an Autobot, not even an Autoboticon, as Knock Out so cheerfully dubbed himself.

Soundwave had lived the best part of his life as a loyal follower of Megatron, and now… he was nothing. Until Optimus Prime had personally asked if he, Soundwave, would accompany himself and five other bots on a quest to search for the Allspark.

No, Soundwave was in no way an Autobot. But he was indebted to the Autobots for bringing him out of the dark and silent Shadowzone. Come to think of it, dark and silent described himself, but that didn't mean Soundwave had to like it. Also, Soundwave knew the value of the ethereal, having sworn a Vow of Silence. The Allspark would benefit Cybertron and all its race, not just the Autobots.

Soundwave meandered onto the landing pad, his steps slow and measured. He had all the time in the world to get onto the ship, a groon and a half to be exact.

"Soundwave, do you know where Bluestreak, Bumblebee, and Smokescreen are?" Soundwave turned slightly to look at the black and white doorwinged mech, who met his invisible gaze with an equally unreadable stare.

Soundwave shook his helm once, and Prowl frowned.

"Bluestreak should have them here within a breem," the mech muttered, turning away.

"And that we are!" Prowl spun about and leapt backwards as his adopted brother flung himself at the CTO. Bluestreak stumbled, laughing heartily as his arms failed to embrace the taller Praxian. "C'mon Prowl, you gotta let me hug you some time, and you leaving for an indefinite amount of time is cause enough I'm sure!"

"Unlike yourself, I value personal space," Prowl deadpanned, glancing down at his datapad. "Is Smokescreen with you? All the team is present but him and Optimus Prime."

"Smokescreen, reporting for duty, your Chief Tacticalship!" The blue and gold mech popped up from behind Bluestreak, flashing Prowl a mildly uncertain grin.

"Smokescreen, I noticed you were speeding a total of three times in this orn alone, please do not do so," Prowl admonished. "You were also recorded street racing with Bumblebee and Wheeljack down by the Iaconian Archives, this is also illegal."

"And _that_ was the most absolutely _worst_ greeting ever," Smokescreen gasped dramatically, throwing his arm around Bumblebee's shoulders. "And from my own half-brother, no less!"

"Yeah, yeah, sic Magnus on him." Bumblebee grinned, pushing Smokescreen away.

"Ultra Magnus would not attack an officer because his creation requests it," Prowl stated, tapping away at his datapad.

"No, he wouldn't," Smokescreen muttered, turning to look at the crowd, where Ultra Magnus was just starting to come in.

_ "Personal space,"_ Soundwave played.

"Right," Bumblebee said with a small laugh. "Sorry about that, Soundwave. C'mon, Blue." Bumblebee jumped down from the pad, Bluestreak right behind him, and the two of them melted into the crowd, talking about something or other.

Smokescreen looked between the two blank mechs on either side of him, and vented. "Great company, guys," he said, before jumping off the pad.

Arcee had watched the whole scene with an odd look. "I think I can see why the kid's got a couple self-esteem problems," said Wheeljack, who had been listening to the whole thing.

"Yes, Smokescreen was unbelievably annoying with his dreams of heroism," said Arcee. "But I've never really considered why he was so persistent. But, look at his family, with Ultra Magnus, the Autobot Second-In-Command, for a sire, Prowl, the Autobot Chief Tactician, for a half-brother, and Bluestreak, a famous Autobot sniper, for an adoptive brother…"

"I guess the kid was kinda unnoticed in all that," Wheeljack concluded. Suddenly, he pointed his katana again. "Remind me again why we're bringing tall, dark and 'Con over there."

"_Former_ 'Con," Arcee reminded him. She shot Soundwave, who was just standing on the pad, still as a statue, a narrow look. "Optimus trusts him," she said slowly. "His tracking skills could help us track down the Allspark. Plus his groundbridge expertise could prove useful."

"Anything else that _won't_ make me less trustful?" said Wheeljack. Arcee didn't respond.

Red Alert walked onto the platform, and checked her internal clock. "Little more than a groon," she muttered. She turned her helm. "Hello, Arcee."

Arcee smiled. "Hi, Red Alert. Haven't seen you outside the med-bay much. Doc Knock giving you a hard time."

"Oh, _Primus_," was all Red Alert said, and Arcee laughed a little.

"Well, I guess this search isn't much of a rest from all that, but hopefully you won't be too worked down," the two wheeler said.

The taller femme raised an optic ridge. "Where _we're_ going, and with mechs like _these_ coming along?" She gestured to Wheeljack. "I think I'll have my work cut out for me."

* * *

Optimus Prime walked alongside his brother. Less than a groon from now, the Prime was to go on a search for the Allspark, leaving Ultra Magnus in charge. The two mechs were brothers, but they mostly spoke and referred to each other in a very formal manner. But all the same, when Optimus was finished giving Ultra Magnus advice and information for his temporary leadership role, he paused.

"I wish you luck, brother," Optimus said finally, putting a servo on his shoulder. (Not the shoulder pad).

Ultra Magnus nodded. "You too, Optimus," he said.

Suddenly, Smokescreen ran up. "Optimus, we're ready to go," he said. He did cast a glance at Ultra Magnus, but quickly looked away.

"Thank you, Smokescreen," said Optimus. "Goodbye, Commander." With that, the Prime slowly walked towards the ship.

Smokescreen made to follow him, but Ultra Magnus spoke up. "Smokescreen."

The young bot turned. "Yes, sir?"

Ultra Magnus paused. He hadn't even been very good at being a brother, it seemed hopeless that he could ever act as a sire. But, if he could have acted enough as a loving sparkmate to even become a sire, then he could slag well act enough as a… an encouraging sire. "Good luck, kid," he said.

Smokescreen grinned. 'Kid' was a general title from almost anybody, but this was only the second time in his life that Ultra Magnus had used the title. From him, it was a sincere form of encouragement. "Thank you, sir." He turned, and ran back towards the ship.

Soon, the entire crowd surrounding the launch pad fell silent, all seven bots standing in front of the ship, Optimus Prime in the center of it all. "Autobots…" Optimus began. "All Cybertronians… Yes, we have succeeded in reviving our home planet. And everyday, more and more Cybertronians are coming home. However, as you all know, we cannot truly bring life, the prospect of a new generation, without an ancient relic. The Allspark. It was launched off planet long ago, during the Great War. These bots and I are to launch on a search for the Allspark, so new life can return to our planet." Optimus raised his helm. "'Til all are one."

**A/N HardyGal: I like Transformers Animated Red Alert. She has a cool design. I have really bad grammar throughout this chapter.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N HardyGal: Warning, a lot of inspiration for this story comes from a girl who loves Star Trek: Voyager and Next Generation, and had read only the first three issues of IDW More Than Meets The Eye (that cursed fourth issue evades me).**

**Neon: There will be as many Star Trek: Next Generation references as I can possibly add. Prowl is Data, Red Alert is Beverly Crusher, Smokescreen is Wesley Crusher, Optimus is Picard (duh), and I could go on, but Arcee would make a sucky Deanna Troi.**

**HardyGal: My sister, people, who'll be helping me along with this story. She wrote most of this chapter.**

Soundwave could feel the excitement pouring off Smokescreen in veritable waves, so strange that they managed to worm through Soundwave's blocks on his empathic and telepathic abilities. Red Alert, as he reached mental tendrils to her, felt rather neutral about it all, carrier-like concern glowing deep within her, however, for the bots coming along with her. Optimus was also rather calm, warmth for his companions glowing in his spark. Arcee and Wheeljack were both determined to live through their possibly lethal journey, for no other reason than to keep on living. Prowl was rather interesting, given his keen and ever analytical processor, and the fact that he, despite his cold appearance, did actually feel emotions, although they were, naturally, suppressed by his battle computer. Soundwave would have to delve further into his mind at a later time.

"Soundwave, we will be taking flight within five kliks," Prowl warned, jolting the silent mech from his thoughts and mind delving, though his frame did not twitch. Soundwave pinged the Praxian an affirmative and plodded from the port to the bridge.

Wheeljack was in the pilot's seat. The tri-colored Wrecker cracked his digit joints, the sound making Soundwave wince beneath his mask.

"Everyone present and accounted for?" Wheeljack called. Most called an affirmative, and Soundwave pinged the mech, bringing a dark look from the Wrecker, which was not all that unexpected. "Then let's get this show on the road, mechs."

Soundwave's long digits wrapped around a bracing pole as the ship shuddered, thrusters flicking on and lifting the _Argo_ off the launch pad.

"Point the way, Black Slenderman." Wheeljack looked over his shoulder to the communications officer and resident Allspark tracker. "That's what you're here for."

Soundwave compiled the sketchy evidence stored in his processor into a datafile and sent it to everyone in the vicinity. Wheeljack whistled as he read the readings.

"Seriously, you could say all this in a simple 'go that way'," Wheeljack snorted, turning the nose of the Argo in the direction Soundwave had vaguely detected the Allspark's energy, and that was with the best sensors on Cybertron at peak capacity.

"Warp five, Ensign Crusher," Smokescreen said in a playfully authoritative voice.

"Yes sir, Captain," Wheeljack replied, gunning the thrusters.

It was only after they cleared Cybertron's orbit that all Pit broke loose.

Soundwave detected a problem in the warp cor-sorry, _quantum generator_, but before he could make a move to counter it or warn his crew mates, the ship was thrown into quantum jump by Wheeljack. Time and space warped about him, and Soundwave offlined his optics, feeling Laserbeak tighten his hold.

"Boss! Something's gone wrong!" Wheeljack shouted. Soundwave tightened his grip on the brace pole, tentacles extending and wrapping about his chestplates to protect his symbiot, who shivered at the feeling of the quantum jump gone wrong.

"Report!" shouted Optimus Prime.

"Not sure, but I think the quantum generator's shot, and it's screwing up everything else! I can't keep it steady for long!" the Wrecker warned.

"Soundwave, get down to the-" Optimus began, but a shout from Wheeljack stopped the command.

"No! If any bot gets down there, who knows what'll go off!" The Wrecker was fighting to get the Argo under his control. Soundwave's sensors detected the ship flying wildly off course, swinging to port, the opposite direction of Cybertron and Earth. They were moving much faster than Wheeljack had first set them. Then the proximity sensors blared a warning, high and rather annoying.

"We're coming on a planet!" Prowl shouted above the din of the rattling ship, which was practically falling apart at the seams, not meant to fly at such speeds for this long. "Brace for impact!" Soundwave was already well braced, but he released more tentacles, which bound him to the brace pole. "Smokescreen! Get down!" Soundwave looked over in the direction of the young Praxian, who clung to a brace pole. Smokescreen obeyed his half brother's command and flung himself into a chair and buckled in.

Soundwave heard another cry from Prowl, but it was cut off as the _Argo_ slammed into the surface of the alien planet.

* * *

When Prowl onlined, the first thing he felt was pain, border lining on agony. It came from his doorwings, which was not surprising. However much it hurt, Prowl was reluctant to online his optics, for fear his logic would be corrupted by whatever horrors he might see. So he cast out the sensors in his wings, and the black and white Praxian relaxed as six resounding spark signatures registered, a seventh (not his own) pulsing quietly as a symbiot spark.

Then his processors jumped to the next big thing on his list of priorities.

"Optimus?" he gasped out, onlining his optics and sitting up. A flash of pain from his back reminded him of his dented doorwings, and Prowl quickly offlined the pain receptors.

"I am undamaged, Prowl," came the reply.

Prowl looked about. Everyone was sitting up and groaning, except Soundwave, who was unwrapping his tentacles from a pole. The ship seemed tilted off center slightly, but nothing was broken.

"Damage report?" Optimus called to Wheeljack, who bent over a terminal, optics wizzing over the information flowing over the screen.

"Nothing much, but the quantum generator's gonna have to be fixed, that'll take a few orns," Wheeljack replied. "Other than that, I'm gonna need a sledgehammer for the dings. A sledgehammer or a big aft dent stylus."

"Smokescreen?" Prowl turned to where he had last seen the younger Praxian.

"I'm fine, Prowl." Smokescreen was rubbing his helm, smacking the buckle on his chair. "You almost sound like you cared." Prowl frowned at the young bot's resentful tone, but brushed it away as he stood, stumbling over to a console.

"Prime," he said. "We seem to have crash landed on a cold desert planet." He looked over the information. "I suggest we send Lazerbeak out; the temperatures are too cold for us to scout for long."

All bots looked over to the ex-Decepticon as his screen blitzed and beeped. _"I don't know-what about-Laserbeak." _Spoke a message composed of words spoken by several different bots, the last most recognizable as Starscream.

"While more vulnerable, Laserbeak is also flight capable," Prowl continued, speaking the logic fed by his battle computer. "I would suggest you go, Soundwave, but you are more valuable than Laserbeak." Soundwave's helm jerked, as though Prowl had spoken offense. Smokescreen winced and Red Alert grimaced.

"Tell a split-spark his symbiot is disposable?" Red Alert rolled her optics. "Not a great idea, Prowl."

"Like _your_ bedside manner is much better," Wheeljack muttered. He groaned, pushing himself out of his seat.

"Well, I'm sorry that's how you feel, because you and everyone else is to undergo an examination." Red Alert steadied herself on a support bar.

"Heh, no thank you," the Wrecker replied, going back to the console.

"Sir," Red Alert said, turning to Optimus Prime. "I think it would be best for everyone if we all received a quick medical evaluation. Just as a precaution."

"I just wanna get this tin can up and moving again as fast as possible," Wheeljack said impatiently. "And why isn't that bird out and scouting yet?"

Soundwave slowly turned his head to look at the Wrecker, portraying nothing on his mask. Prowl's doorwings stiffened instinctively. Yes, the Decepticon was said to be no longer such, but there is a difference between what is and what is said.

"It's not like he'll be out there for too long," Arcee said, finally speaking up. "Just a quick scout around and then you can have your bird back."

Soundwave responded by slowly looking at her. "Soundwave," Optimus Prime said finally. "No one means to offend you or your symbiot." Prowl knew this was actually untrue, but he decided it the best course of action to say nothing. "All we ask is that you allow him to perform a swift scouting mission. Laserbeak will not be the only one in danger if we do not fully assess our surroundings."

"Hey, if it makes the 'Con feel any better, his bird can just check out the damage to the hull," said Wheeljack.

That did seem like a good idea. The windows indicated that this snow desert planet was in the middle of a blizzard, and no bot would want to evaluate the hull damage, access the necessary tools and then go back outside to repair the hull in the middle of this storm. If the drone evaluated the damage first, there was less chance of damage to the crew, and the bots who would repair the hull would already know which tools were necessary to do so.

Optimus Prime apparently thought this as well. "Thank you, Wheeljack. Soundwave?"

The tall, thin bot nodded once, and released Laserbeak. The bird drone flew around the bridge once, before heading for the doors. Wheeljack opened them, and the drone flew off into the blizzard.

"While the damage is being assessed," said Optimus Prime, turning to the rest of the crew. "Red Alert will be evaluating each of you."

Wheeljack groaned. "Sir," Prowl said calmly. "I believe we are all undamaged, and it would be a more prudent use of our time if we assessed further damage to the _Argo_, and prepared for repairs."

"Well, tough luck, Praxian, you're using your time less prudently and getting a medical evaluation," Red Alert said. "Don't think I don't see your dented doorwings."

"I don't," Prowl replied cooly, resisting the urge to say the non-contraction 'do not' as that would make him sound like a pouty sparkling. He knew very well that Red Alert could see his doorwings; it was hard to hide one's doorwings.

"Prowl, if you start acting like your brother, I'm going to pull a Ratchet." Red Alert threatened, gesturing to Smokscreen, who jolted, mouth gaping in a 'wait, what?' expression. Prowl grudgingly allowed himself to be lead to the medical bay, and Red Alert practically attacked his wings, pulling the dents out with more vigor that necessary. Yes, she was Ratchet's apprentice alright.

* * *

Laserbeak was cold. Incredibly cold. Like, his wings might just freeze off. Soundwave had been incredibly reluctant to release him out into the blizzard, and Laserbeak was also.

He onlined his cam, streaming the film live to Soundwave, who undoubtedly was playing it on a monitor. The hull... didn't look great. Heavily dented, like Omega Supreme had slammed a fist into it. Damn, that looked bad. This was transmitted to Soundwave, who replied with a light rebuke for his language.

/:Laserbeak; orders from the Prime; scout about ship, report after one breem,/: Soundwave sent through the symbiotic link.

/:Orders received,/: Laserbeak trilled, wheeling away from the ship and beginning a wide circle about it the vessel, sensors scanning the surrounding world, though the blizzard greatly hampered them.

His one breem was almost up, and Laserbeak turned back to the ship. Then a huge black shadow swung out of the snow and struck him.

* * *

Red Alert had pounced on Soundwave when she came back from repairing Prowl, who had trailed behind the femme with his wings lowered in an almost sulky manner. Soundwave played Laserbeak's cam feed on his visor, and the scrutiny directed to his hidden face was enough to make him shift on his pedes under Red Alert's scanner.

"Stand still, mechling, or this'll take longer," the femme scolded, as Soundwave kept his helm turned toward the gathering of Autobots.

Suddenly, something lashed out, passing just within sight range of Laserbeak's sight range, before the little arial spun out of control, and the feed cut. Soundwave stood up abruptly, which greatly irritated Red Alert.

"Do any of you mechs want this over with or not?" she snapped.

Soundwave, of course, didn't say anything, just slowly walked towards the ship's main entrance. He was aware of the Autobots muttering as they gathered behind him. "What happened to him?" Smokescreen asked.

"Too many of you are clogging up my med-bay," Red Alert stated.

"Soundwave, what is the situation?" inquired Optimus Prime.

/:Carrier…/: A squeaky, frightened word was sent through the link. Soundwave could also feel his little bird's pain and dizziness.

/:Report, Laserbeak,/: Soundwave sent back through the link.

/:An unknown creature ambushed me./: Soundwave was sort of proud of how in control Laserbeak was trying to remain. /:My wing… My wing!/: Not so much in control now, however.

/:Can you fly back?/:

/:I am coming back now. My wing…!/:

During this conversation, Soundwave stopped a little ways away from the doors, and turned slowly. "I'm not going out there and freezing my aft off to look for your bird," Wheeljack said.

Soundwave would've sent him a dark glare if he didn't have his mask. "Soundwave, the conditions are too severe," Optimus Prime said slowly. "No bot can survive long enough to search for Laserbeak."

_"No-search," _Soundwave played, splicing together two of the Prime's words. /:Laserbeak, distance from _Argo_?/:

/:I'm almost to the airlock now./: Laserbeak sent. Soundwave walked sharply to the doors and pressed the controls, despite the Autobots' protests as icy air swept in, along with a fritzing black aerial.

Soundwave caught Laserbeak in his long arms. He could feel him fall into stasis as the bird-bot fell limp. Everyone stared, while Soundwave just walked slowly back towards the med-bay. Laserbeak was sparking, his left wing was ravaged and almost torn off, his right wing sporting many small holes, as though by teeth. While Red Alert followed Soundwave, everyone else looked back at the door.

"What the slag is out there?" Arcee muttered.

**A/N HardyGal: Star Trek ripoff is what this feels like, and I don't care at all. Thank you to those who reviewed. Yes, Erymia, Red Alert is cool. She, to me, is like a slightly younger, female Ratchet. Just with a slight sarcastic sense of humor. Very slight. Or maybe she's just sarcastic. Yes, KHGiggle, I know it is more liable that Soundwave would go with Megatron. However, my sister loves Soundwave so much, and so I brought him in for her. And now she's helping me write this story. Hey there, Ink Engraver! Thank you for the review, that's awesome. Yes, I think I'd better put my Smokescreen's family headcanon on my profile or something. Yeah, my PM is disabled, I get a lot of emails, so I prefer not to get more of them, sorry.**


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